<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>You Say Stuff Is Way, Way To Go, Go Away by deepestfathoms</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26383258">You Say Stuff Is Way, Way To Go, Go Away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms'>deepestfathoms</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Derry Girls (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1, Autistic Orla McCool, Gen, Good Cousin Erin Quinn, Head Rubs, Hurt/Comfort, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Orla is babey, Overeating, Sensory Overload, Sister-Sister Relationship, Touch-Starved, Vomiting, title from Stuff Is Way, we need more protective big cousin erin in this fandom!!!!!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:53:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26383258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Orla caused a disruption and thought she was messed up for it and 1 time someone let her know she wasn't a burden.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Erin Quinn &amp; Orla McCool, Orla McCool &amp; Mary Quinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You Say Stuff Is Way, Way To Go, Go Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
<p></p><div class=""><p>
      <strong>1.</strong>
    </p></div><div class=""><p>  “I don’t like it, okay!?”</p></div><div class=""><p>James’s outburst took everyone by surprise. His face flamed red as he began to shout in anger, spitting awful words about how terrible fried food was. Not that anyone expected anything less from a Brit.</p></div><div class=""><p>  “It’s too greasy! It’s much, much too greasy!!”</p></div><div class=""><p>Underneath all the yelling, there was a whimper. It went unheard by everyone, however, as all the attention was turned on James.</p></div><div class=""><p>  “Even the smell of it makes me physically sick!!”</p></div><div class=""><p>Silence.</p></div><div class=""><p>  “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Fionnula,” Michelle said. Then, in James’s ear, she hissed, “You’re a fucking embarrassment.”</p></div><div class=""><p>  “Get him out of here!” Fionnula ordered.</p></div><div class=""><p>In a muttering, awkward heap, the girls (and Brit) began to file out--</p></div><div class=""><p>  “Oi!” Fionnula barked. “You forgot one!”</p></div><div class=""><p>The gang stopped, turned around, and that’s when they finally noticed that Orla was on the floor, huddled in the corner between the wall and the counter, with her hands clamped firmly over her ears.</p></div></div><div class="">
  <p>  “Orla, let’s go.” Michelle said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla didn’t move, though. She just scrunched her eyes shut and curled her fingers into her hair. She looked like she was in pain.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Oh shit,” Erin muttered, then darted down to Orla’s side. She didn’t touch her cousin, rather let her hands hover over Orla’s lanky body, which she realized was wracked with trembles. “Orla. Orla, hey, it’s Erin.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla pried one eye open, glanced at her, then slammed it shut again. A tiny whimper escaped her lips, and a piece of Erin’s heart broke off.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “It’s okay, you’re okay,” Erin told her. “Can I touch you, Orla? Is that okay?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded, and Erin had her securely in her arms a moment later. Orla nuzzled against her, but kept her hands placed firmly over her ears. James yelling must have set her off.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Erin murmured, stroking Orla’s unruly curls the way she knew her cousin liked. “Everything is okay… James startled you, didn’t he?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded wordlessly and buried her face against Erin’s chest. Due to her height, she was having to lean down, practically laying on Erin, but neither cousin seemed to mind the position.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fionnula, however, did mind, and did not appreciate the scene that was going on in her restaurant.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “What part of ‘get out’ don’t you understand?” The woman said impatiently.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Can you give us a minute?” Erin snapped. “It’s not the end of the goddamn world if we linger around for a moment! My little cousin is freaking out! Have some respect, will you!?” Then, in a quiet, soothing voice to Orla when she flinched and whimpered, “Shh, shh. Not you, Orla. I’m sorry for yelling. I didn’t mean to startle you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla made a tiny noise in response. Erin tucked her head underneath her chin and held her closer, rocking her in slow, gentle motions.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “You still like being rocked, right?” Erin asked quietly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Wonderful. Just making sure.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They remained there on the floor for awhile, ignoring all the stares and whispers they were receiving. Erin might have cared a little more if it weren’t her baby cousin in her arms. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Are you okay?” Erin asked after a few minutes of silence. “Feeling any better?” Orla slowly uncurled herself from Erin, pulling her hands away from her ears. She looked tired and shaken, but slightly less traumatized.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “We can sit a while longer if you need,” Erin told her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla shook her head and slowly stood up. She nearly toppled right over, but Erin leapt to her feet and steadied her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Take it easy, love,” Erin said, and the pet name slipped out without her even thinking about it. “No need to rush.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla looked at her, blinking her bleary golden brown eyes, then latched onto her hand. Erin stroked her knuckles gingerly as she led her out of the building.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>To their credit, Michelle, Clare, and James waited a moment before bombarding the cousins with questions. Unfortunately, “a moment” seemed to be more like a millisecond because there were suddenly a barrage of comments spewing out of eager mouths. Erin gave her friends an evil warning glare when Orla whimpered in distress at their volume.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Sorry, sorry,” Clare apologized for her and the other two. “We’re just worried.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “You sound like you want to hear the latest news,” Erin said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Can you blame us?” James said. “That was the most eventful thing to happen this week! What was that?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla shifted uncomfortably. The discomfort on her face wasn’t an expression she usually wore, and when Michelle noticed it, she added for James, “He means you can tell us when you’re ready.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Better.” Erin said. She squeezed Orla’s hand. “Maybe some other time, okay? I’m gonna get Orla home. She’s tired.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded and rested her chin on Erin’s head, letting her eyelids flutter shut. It wasn’t an act to get away from the questions, she genuinely looked exhausted- both mentally and physically.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There was a scattering of agreements from the other three before Erin began to walk Orla down the street.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Do you think Orla will be better by the time I steal that notice board from Fionnula’s shop?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clare and James whip their heads around to Michelle.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “WHAT?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>2.</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla wasn’t sure what woke her up- her brain not wanting to stay asleep any longer or the buzz in her head. Probably both.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It took everything in Orla not to whine out loud when she realized that buzz was an oncoming migraine. Of course. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was in Erin’s bed, per usual (she never slept in her own bed) nestled in a burrow of blankets. Erin was still asleep, sprawled out on her back with her mouth open slightly. If that John guy saw her like this, snoring softly and drooling ever so slightly, he would probably run for the hills. Orla giggled softly at that image, and that small sound rebounded uncomfortably through her head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Footsteps made Orla perk up a little. They were a little distant, but someone was definitely awake. After waiting a few minutes, Orla released her head from the grip her hands had on it and got up, too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Simply walking down the short staircase was difficult with Orla’s increasingly intense headache. She stopped on the third step and had to take a deep breath before continuing on. Luckily, she got downstairs without any injury.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When she got to the bottom step, she saw the kitchen lights on and her Aunt Mary heating up a kettle on the stove. The woman looked surprised, but smiled warmly when she noticed the girl.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>   “Good morning,” She said, “You’re up early.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla waved and then shrugged, padding across the hardwood with her fluffy socks. She peered at the kettle curiously, like she was expecting a rose to sprout out from the lid. Mary studied her thoughtfully.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>   “Do you have any preference for breakfast?” Mary asked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla shook her head. She would eat anything. Although, right now, her head was pounding enough to make her lose her appetite.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>   “Can I help?” Orla asked after a moment.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>   “Of course!” Mary said, pleasantly surprised. “You can start the eggs.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded. Mary made friendly conversation with the girl as the two of them began to cook breakfast, though Orla wasn’t much of a talker. Even if she was, Orla’s migraine began to get worse and worse until she wasn’t able to pay attention at all anymore.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>   “Orla? Orla!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla reeled backwards, hissing in pain. She had no idea what Mary was yelling about until she noticed the egg in the pan was smoking. She ogled the pan with wide eyes, hands fumbling, and Mary had to turn off the burner for her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Orla, what has gotten into you?” Mary said, looking at the girl. “Maybe you should sleep in some more?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla shook her head and backed away. She lifted her hands and squeezed her skull between her palms, like she was trying to keep a headache at bay. Mary noticed, along with the fact that something was very wrong, so she helped the girl over to the couch so she could sit down.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Are you alright?” Mary asked, setting a hand on Orla’s back.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla shrugged. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>   “What’s wrong, honey?” Mary tried asking something else, keeping her voice low.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla hesitated, then gestured vaguely for her head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Your head hurts?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “I see,” Mary frowned. She thought for a moment, then began to rub Orla’s head comfortingly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla’s gaze snapped up at her with wide eyes. Mary quickly pulled her hand back.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Sorry.” Mary said. “I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to be touched.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla tapped the top of her head. Mary furrowed her eyebrows.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “But I thought--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla tapped more, so Mary put her hand back on her head, rubbing gently.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla pressed into the touch, closing her eyes in bliss. The pain from the headache began to melt away with each stroke over her skull, soothing her. She couldn’t help the content cooing noises she began to make.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mary chuckled. “You like this, don’t you, sweetheart?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded. She keeled over into Mary’s lap and rolled over onto her back like a puppy seeking pets. She grabbed her aunt’s hand and placed it back on her head, even making rubbing motions like she was reminding her what to do. She sighed happily when the affection resumed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “So much for starting breakfast,” Mary chuckled lightly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>3.</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The ride back to the house wasn’t very fun for anyone: Michelle, who was trying very hard not to swerve off the road because she was a tiny bit tipsy (don’t drink and drive, kids!); Clare, who was simply still reeling from what had happened at Jenny Joyce’s party; James, who was moping because he missed the one chance he would ever get to lose his virginity; Erin, who was stewing in embarrassment after all her accusations; and Katya, who had to sit with all of them in the same cramped car. But most of all, Orla, who could feel her stomach roiling as Michelle swerved haphazardly down a turn in the street.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Erin,” Orla leaned forward to the passenger seat and tugged on her cousin’s sleeve with one hand, holding her stomach with the other. “I don’t feel good…” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erin snapped her head around to her. “I thought you said you could handle it.” She whispered as if this discussion was some type of super secret spy mission, although Orla did appreciate her not shouting it to the rooftops.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Mm-mmm,” Orla shook her head. She moved her hand from Erin’s sleeve to her stomach with the other.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erin looked around at the dark road the car was speeding down. “Can’t you, like, hold it in?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla swallowed thickly, trying to reign in her growing nausea, but could only shrug as an answer because she truly didn’t know.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “She doesn’t need to piss, Erin,” Michelle said not-so-secretly. “She needs to boke. There is a huge difference.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Yeah, one is not so easy to hold in,” Clare added.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Thank you for your addition, Clare,” Michelle said. “We all definitely did not already know that.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “If you vomit on me I will bust your nose in.” Katya said coldly to Orla, who shrunk away with a tiny whimper.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Why did you eat so much if you knew you were going to be sick?” James asked Orla.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “It seems she always eat that much.” Katya observed. There was a hint of cruelty in her words as she smirked slightly and said, “Like a pig.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Oi! Don’t call her that, you bitch!” Michelle snapped, jerking around to glare at Katya (and not paying attention to the road at all).</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Watch what you say,” Erin hissed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “What?” Katya said innocently. “I only say truth.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “THE truth,” Erin corrected. “And it is not the truth! Just because Orla likes to eat doesn’t mean she’s a pig.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Erin…” Orla moaned, hugging her stomach even tighter. A sudden rush of saliva filled her mouth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Sounds like the definition of pig to me,” Katya said. She peered at Orla, apparently not noticing how pale she had gotten. “She even has chocolate still on her face. And shirt. And hands.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “That means nothing.” Erin said dismissively.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Erin…” Orla called out weakly again, but it still went unheard.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Oh really? So you are allowed to insult me and call me prostitute, but I cannot say a word about your pig of a cousin?” Katya said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Stop calling her that!” Erin growled. “She’s not! You aren’t allowed to talk about my family that way, ESPECIALLY my little cousin!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Erin!!” Orla wailed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “What?!” Erin whipped around to Orla.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And that’s when Orla threw up all over herself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Naturally, the rest of the ride was driven in silence. Nobody really knew what else to say, so they all just stared forward as if one of them weren’t covered in her own vomit. They dealt with the smell by rolling down the windows and spoke nothing of it until Michelle parked outside the Quinn house.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Night,” Michelle muttered. Clare and James echoed her phrase as Erin got out of the passenger seat and Katya climbed over James to go out the other door. Orla almost crumpled right out of the car, but managed to catch herself. Vomit poured down her legs from where it had been congealing in her lap for the past seven minutes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Erin,” She whimpered, staring teary-eyed at her cousin.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “It’s okay, Orla,” Erin told her. “Just get it out.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “It really is not.” Katya said helpfully and Orla threw up again. Erin shot Katya a burning glare.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Will you shut the fuck up?” Erin snarled. She went to Orla’s side and held her hair out of the way, ignoring how her fingers grasped tightly onto bile and digested chocolate marshmallow-soaked locks. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “No, because you did not at party.” Katya said. “Why should I?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Because my little cousin is SICK and you are just a BITCH, and so help me god I will STICK MY FIST so far up your ass that you will TASTE the coconut lotion I put on a few hours ago!!” Erin roared.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That was what got Erin’s family (and some old woman she vaguely recognized) to come storming out to see what the commotion was. And, boy, was it a sight. Michelle speeding off down the road before anything could be linked to her, a very pissed off Erin and Ukrainian, and Orla, who was covered in vomit.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “What is going on here?!” Mary yelled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “I couldn’t handle it,” Orla gurgled, and then threw up again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>4.</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The gang arrived at the bus stop with Orla clinging to Erin’s hand like it was her lifeline. Orla had an expression of discomfort and uneasy on her face and she kept leaning down to bury her face against Erin’s hair like she was trying to hide. Something was wrong.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “What’s up, fuckers?” Michelle greeted them. She had a wide smirk, but her eyes kept glancing over at Orla with obvious worry.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Nothing much,” Erin replied. “Orla’s going nonverbal today.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clare and Michelle nodded knowingly, sympathy suddenly oozing into their gazes. James blinked, looking slightly confused.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “But she’s usually nonverbal?” The Brit said, then got elbowed in the ribs by Michelle. “Ow!! I was just asking!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Shut the fuck up,” Michelle hissed lowly. She looked at Orla. “Ignore him, doll. He’s being stupid.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Yeah, he didn’t mean it,” Clare added.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded slightly. She buried her nose against Erin’s blonde locks and kept it there until the bus pulled up. When they all crowded inside the vehicle, she would shudder in an awful way when someone’s arm would brush against her side or back. She seemed uncomfortable when someone other than her cousin would touch her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla curled against Erin when they sat down, sandwiched securely against her older cousin and the window. Erin eased her to completely lay down in the seat, her head resting in her lap, brown curls sprawled out all over her thighs. Erin rubbed her back comfortingly, humming softly to help soothe her further.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Is she okay?” James asked quietly when Orla had fallen asleep. Even with all the bumps on the road, the young girl didn’t wake up. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “She will be,” Erin answered. “I think it’s a burnout. So she’s pretty tired.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “What caused it?” Michelle asked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “I don’t know. Maybe nothing at all.” Erin sighed and combed her fingers through Orla’s hair. “Don’t give her a hard time today, please?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The other three nodded.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The group soon fell silent for the rest of the bus ride, either staring out the window or watching the semi-peaceful face of the youngest in the gang. Erin’s hand never stopped stroking Orla’s hair for the entirety of the trip to school, and when they finally arrived, she was hesitant to wake her cousin up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Hey, Ors,” Erin shook Orla’s shoulder gently. “Time to wake up.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla’s eyes fluttered open. They looked darker than usual, weighed down by exhaustion and emotional fatigue. She blinked slowly at Erin.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “We’re at school, lovely,” Michelle said. “Unfortunately.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded and sat up. Erin helped her out of the bus, squeezing her hand comfortingly, while Michelle, Clare, and James followed like protective guard dogs. They all walked into the main hall for announcements, and Orla was instantly set off by the closed space.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “I know, Orla, I know,” Erin murmured when Orla whimpered in distress. “It’s going to be okay. It won’t last long.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla stepped closer to Erin, practically pressed against her, but Erin didn’t seem to mind. She was more than happy to wrap her free arm securely around her little cousin to help her feel more protected.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Announcements soon began. Sister Michael’s voice boomed loudly through the microphone, causing poor Orla even more discomfort. Orla whimpered again and released Erin’s hand to cover her ears.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “E-Erin…” Orla croaked. Her voice was tight and pitched with anxiety.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Breathe, Orla.” Erin instructed. “Breathe. It’s okay. It’s almost over.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “N-no--” Orla gasped. “It’s too loud-- Erin, it’s too loud--” She crumpled to her knees, keening a strange kind of distress call, and rocked back and forth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Girls started to turn and stare at the spectacle. Sister Michael stopped talking and pursed her lips with a mixed expression of annoyance, confusion, curiosity, and concern. Erin lunged down to Orla’s side and clasped her hands over Orla’s own to further help muffle the noise. Orla collapsed against her, sobbing into her chest. The poor thing was shaking so badly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Shh, shh,” Erin murmured. “It’s okay, Orla. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla released her ears and clung tightly to Erin with her nails dug in. She was gasping and wheezing like she was having a panic attack, and she may as well have been with her symptoms. She kept whimpering and whining in elongated cries that cut Erin’s heart into tiny pieces. Erin held her tighter.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Try to focus on my heartbeat,” Erin instructed, pressing Orla’s head to her chest. “Can you hear that, Orla? It’s my heart. Use that to ground yourself. You’re going to be just fine.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “God, Erin,” Someone scoffed from nearby. Erin recognized it as Tina o’Connell. “Can’t you tame your retard?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Michelle, James, and Clare froze in shock. Orla whimpered. Erin looked up slowly with an expression of murder in her eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Michelle. Take Orla.” Erin said, not breaking eye contact with Tina. When Michelle swooped in and brought Orla into her arms, she stood up and then began undressing. First, her scarf. Then, her blazer, tie, necklace, and ponytail. And then she threw herself at Tina in a flying tackle, screeching like an enraged banshee and swinging her fists in a whirlwind.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pandemonium instantly broke out inside the room. Girls began to shout, a large crowd formed, nuns and teachers rushed over, and Erin and Tina fought violently on the floor like a pair of pissed off cats. James, Clare, and Michelle watched with wide eyes and gaping mouths.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Your cousin is kicking ASS.” Michelle whispered to Orla. She began to tenderly stroke her hair like Erin had been doing. “You’re definitely gonna be okay, Ors. We’ve got you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It wasn’t long before Sister Michael broke through the crowd and ripped Tina and Erin apart with ease. Both girls were scratched up and Tina had a busted lip, but luckily there wasn’t much damage done. Unluckily for Erin, though, because she had wanted to beat that little bitch into a bloody pulp.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “She came after me for no reason!” Tina exclaimed once they were all dragged into Sister Michael’s office. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “No reason?!” Erin barked a harsh laugh. “She called my cousin a--!!” She glanced at Orla hanging onto her and then lowered her sharp tone of voice. She leaned in to Sister Michael. “She called my little cousin a <em>retard</em>. Was I supposed to just stand there and let her get away with that? While Orla was having a sensory overload? It isn’t her fault she reacted that way!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sister Michael looked at Orla, who hasn’t looked up from the floor since they entered. Both of her hands are grasping onto Erin’s arms and she had her face pressed against Erin’s neck like she was trying to hide. Tear stains were still glistening on her cheeks from when she had been crying.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Is this true?” Sister Michael asked Tina.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “I--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “<em>Is this true?</em>” Sister Michael repeated firmly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tina hissed underneath her breath and then grumbled, “Yes, Sister.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Sister Michael said. “Such language will not be tolerated in my school.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “But she and her friends say stuff like that all the time!” Tina cried.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “They have never said such a disgraceful, disgusting, hurtful slur before.” Sister Michael said. “They may be hooligans out to drive me mad, but they aren’t savages. They know better. Unlike you.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tina sputtered, but wasn’t able to come up with a good reply. Erin had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “A week suspension should give you enough time to think about what you’ve done,” Sister Michael said. “Now, out with you. Wait in the hall while I call your mother.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tina opened and closed her mouth several times, but wasn’t able to come up with something to say, so she stormed out in anger. Sister Michael waited a moment and then looked at the cousins. When she spoke, her voice was strangely soft.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Is she alright?” She asked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erin glanced at Orla, who didn’t glance back at her. She lifted a hand and cupped the side of Orla’s head protectively.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “She will be,” Erin said. “The noise set her off. But she wasn’t having a good day to begin with.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “I see,” Sister Michael nodded. “Is she okay to go back to class or would she like to sit down for a while longer to recover?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erin looked at Orla again, who didn’t seem to be in any shape to learn anything.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “I think we’ll wait a moment longer.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sister Michael nodded and gestured for the couch in her office. Erin guided Orla over to it and they both sat down.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Oh, and girls,” Sister Michael said. “If Orla is ever feeling unwell again, stop by my office. It’s quiet in here. She can stay until she calms down.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>5.</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When it came to her issues, Erin, believe it or not, was the most patient. Erin repeated over and over, made Orla look at her eyes or her mouth, asked Orla to repeat, to show her that she remembered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was strange. Erin was sometimes the one to lash out the most, although she had her reasons and they were very good ones.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A lioness waiting to pounce. That was what Erin reminded Orla of.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Orla tried to get herself to stop comparing to animals, but that sort of failed because she was still doing it. As seen here.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Regardless, Erin was smart in a way Orla wished she could be.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(She tried not to think about that. She tried not to think about people being better at things than she is. She knew how those thoughts caught like hooks in her fish-mouth brain and tug and tug and tug and tug until she broke the surface, struggling to breathe.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clare and Michelle are usually good. They love Orla enough to not snap at her when she loudly goes “Huh?” for the fifth time in a row. They dealt with her strange mannerisms and comments as if everyone acted like she did. They played along with her when her brain made her skin feel like it was too tight. Michelle let her mess with her hair and jewelry for hours and Clare simplified things that might have been too much to take in.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They’re good with that. Orla loved them so much.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(She loved them enough to let them be, to pull herself away, to shut herself away in herself as best she can when she finds-- when she realized she’s not--</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When she saw the clench of Michelle’s jaw and the twitch of Clare’s nose and the way they glance at each other, and it’s never mean, it’s never intentional, it’s just…</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla knows herself enough to know when she’s too much, and she loves them enough to spare them the discomfort of having to actually tell her she’s too much, to figure out how to explain that she’s overstepped, to put into words that they have limits.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>People have limits. Orla tried not to push them. She does.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James is still new, and he’s doing his best, he really is, but it’s the adults who are the least patient. Adults try, they always try. Orla liked that they tried. But adults get a pinch between their eyebrows after the third time they repeat an explanation, like they’re starting to wonder if Orla is just being a little shit. Adults are quick to get annoyed, or to fake annoyance, and sometimes Orla can’t tell the difference. Sometimes it feels like there is no difference.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Still, she dealt with it. She always did. Always oblivious, air headed, Orla who doesn’t know better, who doesn’t know what she’s saying, who doesn’t know how to act like a normal person.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She didn’t know where this was coming from or how to stop it. She couldn’t. It was impossible. Impossible to ignore it, impossible to block it out, impossible to disagree with the things it made her think about.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And she couldn’t take it, couldn’t take it, couldn’t take it--</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Everything became too much. Orla was too overwhelmed. She felt like she was drowning, suffocating, burning.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She felt like she was dying.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erin had had enough of all of this when she found Orla collapsed in her bedroom, keening in pain. She kept saying over and over again that the lights were too bright, distant noises were too loud, her clothes were too tight. She had somehow managed to claw open her shirt around the sleeves and stomach before she was in her current position. Curled up and biting herself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Before Erin came rushing in, noises from outside in the house were all encompassing, rattling Orla’s skull, eardrums threatening to burst. She squeezed her eyes closed, covered her ears, rocked frantically with her head bent to her knees in an effort to block it all out. But no matter what she did, she can’t, and that’s it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tears sprang to her eyes, and she let out a loud, pained, keening noise as she cracked her head back hard against the wall behind her, digging it in firmly when she sank to the floor. She clawed at her shirt like fire ants were crawling all over her, desperately trying to get it off but it won’t, it won’t, it won’t. The material tears, eventually, but it doesn’t help.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fuck.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her head shook hard, side to side, side to side, repeat. She swore she can feel her brain trying to detach and fly out her nose. Her hands snapped to her scalp, pulling harshly on her hair and god-fucking-dammit, it’s still not enough. Her fingers left her hair with one last tug, loose strands of curly brown hair stuck between them, and balled into tight fists to strike down on the sides of her head. She pushed her feet firmly into the floor, thrashed and squirmed in the corner.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nothing is enough nothing is enough why is this happening nothing is enough--</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She slammed her feet down harder, dug the heels into the floor until her thighs ached. Then, she lifted one arm and clamped down hard and firm on her wrist with her teeth. Her other hand found her hair again, this time not tugging but holding it in a death grip and staying there.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She stayed like this, rocking and writhing and biting at her wrist with tears rolling down her cheeks, for what feels like forever. All she knew is she can still feel it- the lingering, bone-deep pain of the noises, eyes sore like she’s looked at the sun too long.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That’s when Erin rushed in. She had heard the commotion from downstairs.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The sight terrified Erin, to say the least. Watching her baby cousin spasm and sob and bite herself like a rabid dog made her blood run cold with fear. She snapped into action almost instantly, practically gaining wings due to her panic.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla didn’t register Erin as Erin. She didn’t even register her as a human being, just a presence she felt nearby. The touch she began to feel on her body, however, made her whimper in fright. First on her stomach, grazing lightly over scratches she knew she had carved in the flesh, then her head, where strands of hair had been pulled out, next her shoulder, over more angry red claw marks, and finally her wrist, with blood dripping down freckled skin. The hand was gentle with each prod, which was the only reason why Orla didn’t scream. She even relaxed into it a few times, almost cooing through her painful sobs.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But then fingers wrapped around her wrist and she bit down on them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erin hissed on pain, flinching backwards a little. She definitely hadn’t been expecting that.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>   “Orla,” She said softly, despite the pain. “Orla, let go. Let go. It’s just me.” She felt like she was speaking to a dog rather than a human being.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla showed no sign of hearing her. Her eyes were glassy, blank, and glazed over, which terrified Erin even more. Her cousin looked more dead than alive at this point.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>   “Orla,” Erin tried again. “Orla, babes, it’s me. It’s Erin. I need you to let go.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla’s eyes flickered up a little for a moment before darting back down. Her entire body shuddered and she bit down harder for some kind of grounding. Erin had to grit her own teeth to keep from screaming as it felt like her fingers were about to detach from her hand.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>   “Orla--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She winced at the increasing pressure. The skin broke open and blood filled Orla’s mouth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That’s what snapped her out of her trance.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The girl lurched backwards with enough force to make the wall rattle when her spine connected with it. Erin ripped her hand back and shook it in the air to try and ebb some of the pain. There were marks left on her fingers, scarlet at the center and purple all around them. She hissed, shaking her hand again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Meanwhile, Orla looked to be completely out of it. Her head was lolling back and forth across the wall, Erin’s blood still wet on her lips. Her tongue instinctively flicked out and her entire face contorted into a grimace. She blinked once, twice, then saw the bruising already forming on her cousin’s hand.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla was guilty, to say the least. She would not stop apologizing for two days and couldn’t even look Erin in the eye out of shame for what she had done. Erin, however, constantly told her it wasn’t her fault and she wasn’t mad. But it didn’t make it better. Orla still felt horrible for hurting her cousin.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That’s all she seemed to do. Mess up. Because SHE was messed up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong>+1</strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>While at the market getting groceries, Erin noticed Orla staring at something. She shimmied over with the heavy cart and realized it was some kind of toy in the window of a store. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Like that?” Erin asked with a light chuckle.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded. “It looks so soft…” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erin laughed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla didn’t ask for the toy, rather just kept glancing back at it as they walked away. Erin watched her, and then a lightbulb lit up in her head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Mammy, I need some money.” Erin told her mother when she got home.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Absolutely not.” Mary said instantly. “You already almost went over today.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “No, it’s not--” Erin looked around, then whispered, “It’s not for me, Mammy.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Oh, is Michelle having you buy alcohol, now?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “It’s for Orla.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mary faltered. “Orla?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Yes.” Erin nodded. “She hasn’t been well lately. I know you’ve seen it. And when we were at the market, she kept looking at this thing in one of the stores. I wanted to get it for her because it might cheer her up and--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Some money was placed in Erin’s hands. Erin blinked in shock that that worked and looked up at her mother. Mary smiled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Go get Orla’s thing.” Mary said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erin lit up. “Thank you, Mammy!!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>An hour later, Erin returned home from the market, barely able to suppress her giddy grin.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Orla!” She called. “Orla, where are you?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla peeked out from the kitchen and Erin hurried over with her hands behind her back. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “I have something for you,” Erin said excitedly. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla tilted her head and Erin held out the ostrich beanie baby. Orla’s eyes went wide, mouth opening in a quiet gasp. She tentatively grabbed the stuffed animal and turned it over like she was trying to make sure it was real, then held it close to her chest. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “Like it?” Erin smiled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla nodded rapidly. Erin laughed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>  “I’m glad! I hope it’ll help, Ors. I know you’ve been a bit unwell lately. I just wanted to get you something so you’ll know you aren’t a burden or something. Because you aren’t.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orla’s eyes glistened, and then she sprung forward and hugged Erin tightly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>